


Blush

by wandering_gypsy_feet



Series: Week of One Shots [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut, Smut smut and more smut, all the sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-04 13:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18344510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandering_gypsy_feet/pseuds/wandering_gypsy_feet
Summary: Sandor and Sansa celebrated their first Valentine's Day together as an official couple. Sansa was fairly certain she'd gotten him the perfect gift, but she was about to be outdone, both in the bedroom and out of it.Sequel to the oneshot, Hushed.First in the week of oneshots series!





	Blush

**Author's Note:**

> Yes hi hello welcome back to me writing a lot of smut. I don't know if this is how any of you planned to spend your Monday but hey! Sansan! 
> 
> Please enjoy, leave a review, share, etc, and come back tomorrow for the next oneshot!

“Lady, no!” Sansa shrieked, as her wolf darted out of her room, Sansa’s favorite pair of red lace panties dangling from her teeth. Half dressed, hair in curlers, and lipstick in hand, Sansa leapt over her piles of shoes and dirty clothes in a desperate attempt to catch her. 

 

 

Lady waited in the middle of the living room, tail wagging furiously, eyes alight. Sansa skidded to a stop, watching her in mild terror. In Lady’s brain, this was all a game of the most fun sort, where her human chased her around the apartment and engaged in a rousing game of tug of war with her. To Sansa, it was the beginning of a disaster. 

 

 

“Please,” she begged, holding the lipstick out like an offering. “Here. Eat this instead. It’s delicious, I promise. Lady, give me the undies. Lady, please.” 

 

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Arya appeared from her bedroom door, eyebrows furrowed. 

 

 

“I wanted to wear those tonight,” Sansa pointed to the aforementioned item and Arya made a face. 

 

 

“Ew. Gross. I don’t need to know what sort of kinky things you get into with Clegane, ok?” 

 

 

“Will you help me get them?” Sansa pleaded, trying to get closer to Lady. She jumped up onto the couch. “And don’t let Nymeria— No!” 

 

 

Arya’s husky slipped between Arya’s legs, going for her sister with a playful growl. Sansa’s shoulders drooped in defeat as she watched the red lace get shredded between the teeth of the dogs. Arya’s laughter was slightly mocking. 

 

 

“Sorry,” she said, very clearly not, and Sansa gave a little shrug. 

 

 

“It’s fine. He likes it when I go without any. Easier access,” she remarked pointedly and Arya shrieked and slammed the door. Smirking, Sansa turned to the dogs, who paused in their game to look at her, wondering if they’d be scolded. Sansa gave Lady’s butt a swat as she went past, but left them to play. 

 

 

She wanted tonight to go well. She had plans for her and Sandor. Valentine’s Day was usually a disaster in the city, but she’d made plans. She’d gotten them reservations at a steakhouse, she’d bought a new dress and heels, and she’d even managed to find the most perfect gift for him. 

 

 

She stopped in her search for her makeup palette to double check that she still had it. A watch, expensive leather and engraved. Sandor had bemoaned his most recent loss of a good watch, and Sansa had snapped at the opportunity to replace it. The engraving on the inside was short, but she thought it was utterly fitting for them. 

 

 

**‘Knight in Shining Armor’**

 

 

He’d probably hate it, roll his eyes, huff at her, and then strap it on all the same. He was such a gruff, tough teddy bear. She loved every bit of him so much it actually made her heart squeeze tighter. With the watch still tucked safely in the black box next to her purse, she went back to getting ready. 

 

 

The curlers would give her the big loose waves that he liked so much. She was watching a new makeup tutorial, one that promised to give her an ‘angel kissed glow’ even in the dead of winter. She had only a slight hope that she would achieve the bronzed skin of the girl in the video, but anything would be better than the pale and chapped look she had going on. 

 

 

She turned her phone on so that music would play, drowning out the racket coming from Arya’s room. Sansa would be unsurprised to find her sister welding something together for Gendry. They were strange like that. They probably had some cool, hipster date planned, but Sansa was content with what she’d done. 

 

 

Dinner at El Gaucho, with aged steaks and good wine. It would be classy and perfect. She knew he was dying to try it out. Then they’d walk along the waterfront, and through the lights of downtown. Drinks, at a ritzy, upscale bar. Laughter. Significant looks. Then they’d speed home, and have the best sex of her life. 

 

 

Sansa breezed through her room, delighted with herself. It was going to be perfect. She’d make it perfect, through sheer willpower and determination. She’d waxed and shaved her legs within an inch of their lives, and now she was in the buffing mode. Time to make herself shine. 

 

 

She caught a glance of her dress as she tried to find her mascara. A smile curled up her lips. It was a sexy thing, a deep red for the occasion and tight to her chest. She’d wear the necklace he got her for Christmas, and borrow Marg’s sparkly clutch. Her heels, impossible high and still not enough to bring her to his level, were sparkling on her bed. 

 

 

“Perfection.” She muttered to herself, swaying to the music slightly. “Tonight will be perfect.” 

 

 

She finished her makeup look, smacking her lips when she finished. A critical look in the mirror showed her that while she didn’t quite match the look of the blogger, she was more made up than she usually was. Happy with herself, she pulled her hair down and shook it out. Sandor liked when her hair was a little mused.

 

 

She pulled off the button up and shorts she’d been wearing during her preparations, checking the time. She would be no more than 5 minutes late to getting to his apartment. For her, that was an accomplishment. She dug through her drawers, trying to find an undergarment set that would do the magnitude of tonight justice, but came up empty, cursing. 

 

 

“Well you know what then?” she asked to Lady, who was sitting in her doorway, angelic without the underwear. “Maybe I will just go all out. He’ll laugh when I tell him that you destroyed them. Maybe he’ll even thank you.”

 

 

Lady cocked her head and Sansa just laugh, stripping down into nothing. She stood before the mirror, inspecting her body, twisting this way and that to see if she’d missed anything during her waxing and plucking crusade. She poked at her stomach, prodded her thighs, and lifted her boobs hopefully before sighing. 

 

 

“Perfection, right?” she asked Lady, who settled down on her bed and crossed her paws neatly. Sansa pulled her dress up, slipping the sleeves over her shoulders. She had to practically pour herself into it, but by the time she had it zipped and conformed to every inch of her, she looked at herself approvingly. 

 

 

She pulled on her heels, nearly toppling over with the effort before fixing her makeup one last time and going to grab her purse and her coat. At the last second, she shouted, remembering her gift and ran back for it. 

 

 

“Are you finally leaving?” Arya was in the kitchen, pulling ice cream out of the freezer. 

 

 

“Trying to,” Sansa gave a sad little sigh at the sight of her now ruined underwear torn on the rug. “What are you doing?” 

 

 

“Nothing,” Arya said innocently. “Gendry’s going to come over, make something, watch a movie. Nothing special.” 

 

 

“Uh huh,” Sansa eyed the ice cream and made a mental note to buy more. “Ok, well safe sex, all that jazz.” 

 

 

“Yeah, you too,” Arya rolled her eyes. “Don’t need any little Clegane’s running around.” 

 

 

“One day,” Sansa said cheerfully, then whistled for Lady and shut the door on Arya’s astonished face. 

 

 

The walk up to Sandor’s apartment was beyond familiar now, and Sansa didn’t even bother to put Lady on a leash anymore. She tried to avoid getting dog hair on her dress, but knew that she’d have to lint roll herself anyway after Stranger and Lady greeted each other. She pulled her hair to one side, fiddling with her bracelet and shifting on her high heels. 

 

 

When the elevator dinged and arrived on his floor, Sansa swept out, Lady bounding ahead of her eagerly. Sansa heard Stranger’s excited woofs, and Sandor’s shouts for him to calm down. When she opened the door, the dogs met each other midair, a flurry of fur and tongues. 

 

 

“Enough of that now, you two, you’d think you hadn’t seen…” Sandor trailed off, emerging from his bedroom, adjusting his cuff links. Sansa paused in the living room, looking up to beam at him. His jaw slowly dropped, shock written across his face. 

 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” she said cheerfully, giving him a little spin. Sandor took another step forward, looking flabbergasted, reaching one hand out for her. She took it and stepped forward, kissing him lightly. 

 

 

“Holy shit,” he breathed then blinked and seemed to remember what was happening. He shook his head and put a hand at her waist, a thumb lightly brushing her ribs. “You look…” 

 

 

“Perfection?” Sansa said, with a little laugh, expecting him to reply with sass and an eye roll. 

 

 

“Fuck yes,” he said reverently. “I’m going to get you naked and—” 

 

 

“Reservation,” Sansa said firmly, removing his hand gently and putting it on his chest. “Hurry up.” 

 

 

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, sounding strangled before going back into his bedroom. Sansa smirked and looked at the dogs, who had settled and were watching their owners closely for any departure that would signal their opportunity to get on the couch. 

 

 

“I would say success, my loves,” Sansa whispered and Stranger’s tail thumped the floor in a tandem beat with Lady’s. When Sandor came back, swinging a coat on over his massive shoulders and casting a dark look at the bedroom door, Sansa rose and made sure she had everything. 

 

 

“To our bloody reservations then,” he said, his bitterness only partially a joke. Sansa strode past him, and gave her hips a bit of swing when he groaned. 

 

 

“Are you going to wish me happy Valentine’s Day back?” Sansa asked him and he glared at her as he punched the button for the parking garage. 

 

 

“No, because I’m not fucking happy,” he informed her flatly and she laughed, threading their fingers together and giving him a sweet smile. 

 

 

“I can make you happy,” she offered innocently and he backed her into the corner of the elevator, eyes dark. 

 

 

“Don’t offer what you’re not prepared to give, little bird,” he warned her, looming over her and Sansa gave him a slow smile, snaking a hand up to grab the back of his head and bring it down to meet her lips. They nearly missed the opening of the doors to the garage. 

 

 

“Come on,” she gave him chaste kiss on the cheek and pulled him towards his car. He groaned loudly, but followed mostly without protest. By the time they got to the car, he was back to politeness, smiling and opening the door for her. 

 

 

Sansa gasped when she saw what was laying on the seat. A bouquet of red roses, bound in a satin white ribbon, awaited her. She bent down, picking it up and beaming at him. 

 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he said, only slightly grudgingly. Sansa squeaked and kissed him again, sighing in happiness. 

 

 

“They’re perfect,” she said breathlessly before sliding into the car. He muttered something as he shut the door, but Sansa was too delighted in her flowers to care. 

 

 

The drive downtown was slow going with the traffic, but Sansa told him about her day, and why she was going to need to eat his ice cream only from now on while he navigated. Sansa occasionally broke off her chatter to direct him.

 

 

“Where the fuck are we going?” he muttered, when they finally parked. Sansa checked her phone, noting with pride that they were only several minutes late. For them, that had to be a record. 

 

 

“Somewhere delicious,” Sansa informed him, when he opened the door for her and helped her out. She made sure to flash him a bit of leg as she went and he held tight to her hand. However all notion of dragging her back to the car to have his way with her left when he saw where they were headed. 

 

 

“El Gaucho?” he looked down at her, his grey eyes turning tender. “You got us reservations here?” 

 

 

“I knew you’d want to try,” Sansa beamed at him, squeezing his hand and making sure not to trip in her heels. 

 

 

“Ah, fuck, little bird,” he kissed her head and wrapped an arm around her shoulder tightly. He was warm and Sansa leaned into him. “You’re the greatest thing to ever fucking happen to me.” 

 

 

“I know it,” Sansa’s eyes sparkled as he opened the door for her. She knew his gaze would drop to her ass when she went past him, so she made a point to pause and give him a better look. The hostess greeted them with a smile, her gaze traveling up Sandor’s tall frame before pausing at his scar. Sansa was glad that she had the sense to drop her gaze down quickly. 

 

 

“Name?” she requested and Sansa’s hand snaked down to take Sandor’s once more. 

 

 

“Sansa Stark,” she said confidently and the hostess checked her list, before nodding slightly. 

 

 

“Right this way please,” she led them to a small table in a secluded corner. There was a candle on the table and Sandor pulled her chair out. Sansa sat, setting aside her purse and his present, before smiling when he sat across from her. 

 

 

“This is…” he trailed off, shaking his head and reaching across the table to take her hand. “Sansa, this is beyond anything. How’d you know?” 

 

 

“You talk to Tormund, loudly, about meat more frequently than you’d might imagine," Sansa smiled at him, noting how he hadn’t even been bothered by the hostess’s lingering look at on his scar. Sansa had been working to set him at ease since they’d started dating, and she was thankful that it seemed like more and more often, he’d be so wrapped up in her that he wouldn’t care what others did or said. 

 

 

“Thank you,” he repeated, squeezing her hand. 

 

 

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Sansa said cheerfully, before their waiter came with menus and water for them. Sansa flipped open the menu, watching as Sandor sighed in contentment at the offering. 

 

 

“Tormund is going to be so mad I came here without him,” Sandor muttered and Sansa shot him a mischievous glance. 

 

 

“Don’t tell him then.”  

 

 

“We kept enough secrets,” Sandor chortled, and his toe nudged her ankle, working its way up. Sansa endeavored to focus on the menu choice, but it was difficult when she wanted to leap across the table at him. 

 

 

They settled on oysters start them off, snorting when the waiter idly commented that it seemed to be popular choice for tonight. It was not the easiest food to eat delicately, but Sansa thought she did alright. She didn’t care about making a fool of herself in front of Sandor, but she did care about keeping the night perfect. She wanted it to be one they remembered. 

 

By the time their entrees arrived, they’d witnessed three proposals. Sansa was slightly nervous that she herself might get one - though they’d discussed marriage and the fact that they both saw it in their future, nothing concrete had been decided - but she needn’t have worried. Sandor was so engrossed in his steak she was quite certain nothing would distract him, short of her stripping in the middle of the restaurant. 

 

“How is it?” she asked him, watching him take the first couple bites. He closed his eyes, a look of content on his face that she usually only saw after a marathon sex session. 

 

“Amazing,” he muttered and she grinned, cutting into her own steak. 

 

“I’m glad you like it.” 

 

“I mean it, little bird,” he chewed another bite, “you might as well ask me anything you want right now, I’ll give you your heart’s desire. I’m so fucking happy.” 

 

“My heart’s desire is for you to be happy,” she said, raising her wine glass. He brought his own up to clink it against hers. 

 

“To good wine, great steak, and an even better girlfriend.” 

 

“I love you,” she sipped her wine as he dug into the baked potato with equal gusto. 

 

“Love you more.” 

 

Between bites of the steak, they talked about the recent drama of the group, Brienne and Tormund’s upcoming wedding, and whatever else Sansa’s large and insane family happened to be up to at the moment. Sandor had met them over the holidays last year and while he’d held his own, he was also glad to go home afterwards. 

 

Once Sandor was done extolling the amazing flavors and tenderness of his steak, Sansa decided it was time for gifts. He was poking through the last bits of his baked potato when Sansa pulled the box out of her purse and set it on the table between them. 

 

She'd wrapped it in a black velvet box, which she planned on taking back when he opened because it was so cool. She'd tied it with a red silk bow and a little heart tag with his name on it. Sandor eyed it, then looked up at her with apprehension. Sansa laughed, nudging it closer. 

 

"Go on, it's not going to bite." 

 

"Says you," he took the box and carefully undid the ribbon. Sansa drank more wine and fought the urge to squirm in excitement. He carefully set the ribbon and tag aside, then gently shook the watch box free into his large palm. He turned it over, inspecting it for a  long moment. 

 

"Open it," Sansa urged, unable to contain her glee. 

 

"Impatient," he huffed, but then he removed the lid and looked down at the watch waiting for him. With large eyes, he tugged it free and looked it over. 

 

"Do you like it?" Sansa burst, then hastily bit her thumb to stop herself from any more questions. Sandor was quietly appreciative of things and she didn't want to bring attention to them. 

 

"It's...." he trailed off, then turned the watch over and spotted thr inscription. Sansa watched as his eyes read it, then he turned it over and began fastening it to his wrist. 

 

"Does that mean I did good?" Sansa grinned and Sandor pretended to be engrossed in securing it instead of answering her. 

 

"It's nice," he said gruffly, straightening his arm out several times as it adjusted on his wrist. Sansa smirked and finished off her wine, sitting back. A man of few words but large actions, that was her Sandor. After a few more moments of admiring the watch while pretending to fiddle with it, Sandor reached inside his coat pocket and set a small box between them. 

 

Sansa's entire heart seized up. It was a slightly bigger box than what a ring normally was, but what if he'd gotten her something massive? If he'd gone to Margaery for ring ideas, she totally would send him down the 'bigger is better' path. Was it some monstrous rock? 

 

Oh god, what if she hated it? She had spent some time idly browsing rings on Pinterest and Instagram, but she wasn't certain if she wanted an oval cut or a princess cut or a halo or white gold. What if he'd gotten her a diamond? What if it was a blood diamond? What if it was several blood diamonds? 

 

She was so picky about her jewelry; she spent hours selecting rings that would stack nicely, or necklaces that would layer at the right length. She liked small and delicate, nothing bulky. All different metals, but only good quality so they wouldn't stain her knuckles green. And sometimes plain, sometimes sparkly. The only who'd ever been any good at getting her jewelry she actually liked was Arya, oddly enough. 

 

She reached for the box, glad that she had enough self control to stop her hands from shaking. This wasn't how he would propose, was it? She knew enough about him and them as a couple to expect that he'd maybe be a little more nervous or excited. She had a feeling he'd do it somewhere more romantic or sentimental than a steakhouse. At least, she hoped she hadn't wildly misjudged the nature of her boyfriend and their relationship. 

 

She schooled her face into the most neutral expression she knew, the one she usually reserved for stupid clients and their over the top demands. Then she popped open the box and stared at the shiny piece of metal inside it, stomach doing flips until she felt like she might throw up the very expensive steak she'd just consumed. 

 

It was a key. A key she already had, except for a few changes. It was just a slightly different shape, and the number on it was different than the set currently shoved in her clutch. To be exact, the numbers that were on the outside of Sandor's apartment. She looked between him and the key several times, unable to speak. 

 

"I, uh, um, I...." she just made noises.

 

"I know Brienne moved out," he explained, now looking a little sheepish, "and I talked to your sister. She said she was planning on moving anyways, and so is Marg. I thought it would be a good time for you to come live with me." 

 

"In your apartment?" she asked, a little bit stupidly. The surprise was making it hard to think. 

 

"Yes?" his brow furrowed slightly, "unless you want us to get a new place?"

 

"No," she said hastily, "no, no, your place is fine. It's great! Great place." 

 

"Is it too soon?" Concern was written across his face. 

 

"No," she took a deep breath and a moment to get her thoughts and words in order. 

 

"Because if it is, I understand. I'll help you get into a new place, or--" 

 

"I want to move in with you," she declared firmly, "but I was just surprised. I'd love to live together and I don't think it's too soon. I figured we'd all be moving out now that Brienne is living with Tormund. This is a great step for us. I am excited." 

 

"Good," Sandor's face split into a grin and Sansa reached across the table, grabbing his hands and bringing them up to kiss his knuckles. 

 

"Okay, let's live together," she said, grinning. It seemed so unreal. Granted, she was basically living at Sandor's already. She spent most nights there and usually every weekend if she wasn't away from the city. It made sense to be able to leave her things in his place permanently, rather than try to remember if her crushed velvet skirt was in his closet or her's. This was the step she'd been hoping they'd take. 

 

Halfway through the chocolate cheesecake dessert, Sansa's shock turned to glee. Living with Sandor. Them, together. The future had never seemed so bright and happy. She licked the fork clean, noticing the way that Sandor’s eyes followed her every move, getting darker as he did. She thought of everything she had planned, the walk along the lake, everything else. None of that matter now. She wanted to go home, home to their bed, and not leave until hunger forced them out in the morning. 

 

“Home?” he offered, once the bill had been taken care of. 

 

“Yes,” she said quickly and he smirked, standing and offering his arm. They departed the restaurant in a whirl, heading back to the car. Sansa let her skirt ride up at she sat down and buckled up; it did not go unnoticed by Sandor. As he headed back toward the apartment, he rested a hand on her knee, his large palm warm. Sansa leaned back and smiled contentedly. 

 

As Sandor drove up the hills, his hand climbed higher and higher as well. Sansa crossed her legs at the ankles, smirking, lest anyone accuse her of being too easy. Besides, she didn’t want Sandor that distracted, not when he was driving. But she enjoyed distracting him just a little bit. Especially when she shifted just slightly and his fingers brushed her lightly, enough to reveal that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

 

“Fuck,” he said darkly, pushing the gas a little faster. Sansa clucked her tongue. 

 

“The speed limit dear.” 

 

“I’ll risk the ticket.”

 

She didn’t have an argument after that, she just tried to keep herself and Sandor in check. His parking job was sloppier than normal and Sansa nearly forgot the flowers in the back seat, but they made it upstairs and into the apartment without any indecent exposure charges against them. Sandor and Lady greeted them eagerly and Sansa apologetically told them that they had to go in the spare bedroom, since Sansa and Sandor preferred not to have them curiously watching their every intimate move. 

 

Then they proceeded to the bedroom. 

 

“I have an idea,” Sansa stated, between Sandor’s kisses.

 

“Oh, do you?” Sandor was usually very excited by her ideas. She nodded, letting him kiss her neck once more before she moved away from him towards the set of drawers near the bed. Sandor watched her curiously; they had a wide array of toys in those drawers, all that remained to be seen was which one she was going to pick. She came up with handcuffs, making Sandor raise his eyebrows. 

 

“You put these on me often enough, your turn,” she declared and he reclined slowly on the bed as Sansa clasped his hands above his head carefully. 

 

“What are you going to do, little bird?” he questioned and Sansa stood at the end of the bed, gathering her hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head. 

 

“I want to do a little show for you,” she said shyly and Sandor’s face softened ever so slightly. 

 

“I’d love that,” he said sincerely and she went to the wall, where the control for the surround sound was. She pressed play, bringing on soft, lyrical music. Not the greatest strip tease music, but she wasn’t a good dancer anyways so it all worked out. 

 

She had kicked her heels off when they’d gotten back which she regretted now, but there was nothing else she could do. She did an awkward little shake of her hips, then did another. Sandor gave a wolf whistle, which made her laugh and gave her enough confidence to keep going. She pulled the strap of her dress down slightly, then the other.

 

“Like what you see?” she teased him and he laughed, not meanly but in delight. 

 

“Always.” 

 

“Good,” she slowly brought up the hem of her dress and Sandor was abruptly quiet, watching her intently. She turned so that he could see her ass and brought the hem up to her hips. Sandor growled and she spun back to the front, smiling. He made a move like he was going to reach for her; then the handcuffs stopped him. She watched in satisfaction as his dick stiffened but he wasn’t able to do anything. 

 

Her show continued for a bit, slowly shedding her dress until she was completely naked. Sandor eyed her hungrily as she crawled onto the bed and hovered over him. He was hard and he pulled against the handcuffs but not hard enough to really mean it. Sansa bent down and swirled her tongue around his tip; his hips jerked upwards of his own accord. 

 

She kept it gentle; she wanted this night to last. She had plans for them. And while torturing Sandor with a blowjob was fun, it wasn’t her ultimate goal. So she drew back and sat on her heels. Sandor stared steadily at her, lust in his eyes. 

 

“Now what?” he asked, when she didn’t move. She gave a little shrug, smirking. 

 

“What do you want?” 

 

“You.”

 

“Oh, I thought you’d say that,” she climbed so that her center was hovering above his face. Even when Sandor strained against the handcuffs, she was just a few inches too high.

 

“Sansa,” he growled and she savored the lightest brushing of his nose against her. She wanted to lower herself down, especially when Sandor could do such magical things with his mouth. But right now she had more important things to do, like tease him just a little further. She spun around so that she could lean over his chest and take his dick in hand, lightly stroking it. 

 

“You know,” she said conversationally, “I was going to do this all before you even asked me to move in. But now that you have, I think it’s time for something really special.” 

 

“What’s that?” every last bit of Sandor’s control seemed to be escaping him. 

 

“Well,” Sansa gave him a few more pumps for good measure, making him writhe, “how about we go for the record?” 

 

It was something of a running joke between them, the record. Sandor liked to see how many orgasms he could give her in a sitting, He treated it as a competition against himself and was very eager. Sansa liked that she benefitted from this arrangement as well, but she had learned to limit him; she’d spent one entire afternoon  unable to work up the willpower to make him stop and they’d missed a lunch date with Arya and Gendry, several calls from family, and the invite from Tormund and Brienne to come with them to some excellent pop up sushi stand. Sansa regretted the missed sushi opportunity the most. 

 

“Are you sure?” Sandor was panting and Sansa mulled it over. If worst came to worst, they’d just fall asleep and have to resume in the morning. 

 

“I am,” she slid off the bed and eyed Sandor from the end of the bed. “Now if I take those off you,” she pointed to the handcuffs, “are you going to eat me alive?” 

 

“That’s the plan,” he said darkly and she grinned, retrieving the key from the drawer. 

 

“Good.” 

 

Orgasm one began when Sandor sprung from the handcuffs and threw her down on the bed, mouth going hungrily between her legs. She was already over sensitive from his earlier attempts to lick her and the second his hot mouth came down on her clit, Sansa was screeching. Sandor allowed her to come down slowly, his hand going back into the drawer. Sansa watched him apprehensively, waiting to see what he brought out. 

 

It was the small, compact vibrator they both preferred for being discrete. Sandor clicked it on and gently placed it between her legs, not quite where it would drive her over the edge but enough to keep her going. Then he brought his lips to hers and kissed her like the world was ending. As far as Sansa was concerned, it was. Eventually Sandor pulled away so that his attention could be focused on her.

 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he muttered and Sansa gasped as the vibrations moved closer to her center. 

 

“I love you,” she whispered and he gave her one last kiss before leaning back to watch her reaction to different movements. Before she quite had to time to understand what was happening, he had found the spot that made the whole world go hazy. 

 

Sansa couldn’t stand it any longer - the second her orgasm faded into a dull, pleasurable ache between her legs, she wanted Sandor. She pulled him down on the bed and climbed on top of him once more. He always loved it when she took charge. Then she slid him inside her and sighed in contentment at the feeling. This never got old, not matter how many times they had sex. 

 

The angle and Sandor’s size was always something of a challenge, but Sandor had long ago figured out a solution for this exact problem. He keep the vibrator on her clit, turning the settings on high until she was trembling. She could tell, even as she wanted to collapse into a heap, that Sandor was close as well. So she leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, smiling. 

 

After that, they took a brief break. Sansa was thirsty, and she had to pee, and Sandor wanted to break out the chocolate and champagne he’d also gotten her. Sansa was jabbering away to him in the kitchen as he poured them both glasses, arranging her flowers, when suddenly she went still. Leaving the flowers in the vase, she wandering into the living room and looked around. 

 

“What?” Sandor was watching her, alarmed. 

 

“I just realized something,” she said slowly, “I’m going to live here.” 

 

“Yes,” he looked relieved, “I thought that’s what we discussed.” 

 

“So I will be moving in,” she drummed her fingers against her chin and Sandor frowned. 

 

“I didn’t hit your head or something did I?” 

 

“That means I can decorate!” she turned to him, her face lit up. 

 

“Oh no,” Sandor made sure to grab the chocolate and then caught her around the waist and dragged her back to the bedroom. Sansa sent him back for the champagne and proceeded to feed him chocolate, alternating kisses and detailed explanations of how exactly she would interior decorate the entire apartment. Sandor indulged her, smiling and shaking his head, until the chocolate was gone. Then he told her to stop contemplating the merits of recessed lighting and join him. 

 

Sandor loved to watch her. He wanted to see what brought her pleasure, what she loved and needed the most. He took his time, always letting her build to her release instead of treating it like a chore or means to an end. That was why she was so comfortable with him. He cared. He loved her. And by the time his fingers had her gasping again, Sansa felt so lucky to be with him. 

 

“How would you like me?” she asked him, as she pulled off the joggers he’d pulled on during their break. Sandor pondered the question as Sansa stroked him languidly. 

 

“I think like this,” he inched his way so that he was sitting up against the headboard and brought her onto his lap. Most of her weight was on him, meaning she had the most amount of control over the depth and speed. She adjusted herself to get more comfortable then realized that it was the perfect angle for her to kiss him. 

 

“I like,” she whispered, sliding her hands into his hair. He grabbed her hips, securing her to him. She gave a little shimmy move and his fingertips dug in. 

 

“Me too,” he replied, kissing her neck. Sansa let him do so for a few long moments; then he tweaked her nipple and she couldn’t contain herself any longer. 

 

This round was much slower than the ones before, now that they were rather sated and some of their eager passion had been burnt off. Sansa loved the way that Sandor’s hands ran over her sides, the way he squeezed her ribcage whenever she shifted the angle ever so slightly, how after all this time he still had some level of disbelief that she was his. 

 

Sandor finished, staring deep into her eyes. Sansa kissed him three times before she eased out of his lap and to the bathroom. She was rather tired and the champagne was starting to give her an ever so dull headache. She stuck her head out of the bathroom door to tell Sandor that she was tapping out for the night, then stopped and smiled. He was already spread out amongst the sheets, eyes shut. 

 

“I'm not sleeping,” he grumbled, in his sleepiest voice. Sansa grinned and tip-toed over to the bed, dropping a kiss on his forehead. 

 

“That’s okay, I want to sleep too,” she informed him, “and besides, we can do so many sex things now that I’m going to be living here. Us in the bathtub, us in the shower, us on the couch, us on the table, us on the counters, us in the spare bedroom….” 

 

“Mhmm,” Sandor slapped her bare ass and Sansa laughed, straightened up. “Keep going and I’ll get out of this bed and take you to those places.” 

 

“Tomorrow,” Sansa promised, going to brush her teeth. 

 

Tomorrow she’d start moving her stuff into his apartment. Tomorrow she’d fight with him over decorations. Tomorrow she’d take over half the closest and then some. Tomorrow she’d go through the pantry and add more ingredients than just protein powder. Tomorrow they’d have more mind-blowing sex. 

 

But tonight, Sansa crawled into bed next to him and fell asleep with a very satisfied smile on her face. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this. I enjoyed writing it. Blessings my friends and see you all here tomorrow!


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